


you just know (sometimes you feel it in your bones)

by echoes_of_realities



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, I'll add tags as they come up, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-19 02:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14865260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echoes_of_realities/pseuds/echoes_of_realities
Summary: A series of (shorter) one-shots that don't really belong anywhere else.Chapter 2: “Yeah, see you then, Nobin,” Alice promises.“Nobin?” Robin asks with a laugh.Alice grins mischievously and winks. “You said you were almost the new Robin Hood; so: Nobin.”Robin looks a little bit like she’s windswept when she smiles at Alice, breathless with her cheeks glowing pink. “Not cool, Baker Girl.”Or: Alice is a baker; Zelena needs a wedding cake; Robin doesn’t know whether she likes the pastries or the baker more (it’s the baker, definitely the baker).





	1. I miss you like a sad ending must miss someplace new to begin

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Risk It All" by The Vamps.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Margot’s probably just being sentimental or whatever, but something in her had shifted and settled a little when she arrived back in the Heights (she has a feeling it has something to do with blue eyes, but it’s still a little too early for that). 
> 
> Or: Margot knows she’s missing something, she just hasn’t ever been able to figure out what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m kind of assuming that Zelena didn’t leave to meet Chad the night of 7x17 because it just logically doesn’t make any sense? So in my mind there’s at least a couple days, maybe even a week and a bit, between 7x17 and 7x18; and in my mind Margot and Tilly spend more time together before their first date for sure.
> 
> Chapter title from "Pulse" by Shane Koyczan.

 

 _It was…not love at first sight exactly, but — familiarity. Like: oh, hello, it’s you. It’s going to be you. —_ Mhairi McFarlane

 

* * *

 

Margot knows that she’s missing something, but she can’t figure out what it is.

It’s been years that she’s had this deep, aching, _yearning_ beneath her sternum that she can’t fill. It’s like a gapping pit in her chest, and no matter where she goes, it’s there, a constant amid the changing weather and hostels and people; as Margot has discovered, the problem with travelling to get away from something is that, wherever you go, you can’t ever leave yourself behind.

It’s why, when her mom calls her, in the middle of the night on Phuket time, half-panicked but trying to hide it, she doesn’t mind coming home. It’s been longer than Margot cares to admit since she’s seen her mom through more than a dimly lit phone screen, and she still hasn’t found what she’s looking for.

And then blue eyes catch on hers in shock as she pulls the girl back from the road and suddenly everything Margot’s been searching for falls into place.

 

* * *

 

Margot’s not sure why she feels like she knows Tilly. It’s almost ridiculous how easily she can read her; it’s like Margot knows what expression she’s going to make or what she’s going to say a split second before she does. It’s weird and freaks her out just a little bit, but it’s honestly more comforting than anything, which just confuses her even more. It’s the weirdest feeling Margot’s ever felt, to so easily understand someone who was a complete stranger not that long ago; it’s an even weirder feeling to be so easily understood by someone who was a complete stranger not that long ago.

Margot’s a fairly logical person; sure, she’s seen some weird things in her travels, but she could almost always make sense of it. It’s for this reason that it’s driving her just a little bit insane. Every time she sees Tilly, it’s as easy to talk to her about everything and nothing as it was back when they first met. Tilly draws out all of the thoughts that Margot thought she had buried deep enough to forget about, but Tilly manages it with nothing but a soft smile and understanding eyes. 

It bothers Margot so much, that she asks her mom about it one evening when the bar is fairly deserted, needing to have someone else confirm that she must have already known Tilly at some point because it’s the only way that would explain everything. The few patrons in the bar are tucked into booths at the back wall, lounging lazily on stools, and wandering between the few dartboards hidden by the bathrooms. Roni’s over behind the bar, organizing receipts and out of earshot. 

“Mom, I have a weird question.”

Her mom grunts in response, jerking her chin towards the box she’s trying to carry. Margot slips around an empty table and grabs onto the other end, shuffling backwards as her mom guides her towards the storeroom on the other side of the bar. They set the box down with twin sighs of relief, and her mom turns towards her, dusting her hands off on her jeans. “So?”

Margot stares blankly at her mom. “Huh?”

Her mom rolls her eyes and gestures at Margot. “Your question. You said you had something to ask me.”

“Oh,” Margot deadpans. “You know what, forget it. It’s kind of dumb.”

Her mom frowns at her a little. “Come on, monkey, you can tell me anything.”

“Mom,” Margot complains with an eye rolls. She can tell her mom’s missed her the past couple years because Margot grew out of that particular endearment around the time she passed her mother in height (which was also around the same time her mom started to add heels to her wardrobe) — though to be completely fair, she’s kind of missed her mom too. 

Her mom grins at her reaching over to poke her daughter in the shoulder. “You’ll always be my little monkey,” her mom coos.

“Oh my god,” Margot says, trying to ignore the little bit of fond warmth that curls in her stomach.

“So,” her mom says decisively, finally relenting in her teasing, more or less. “Tell me what’s on your mind.” When Margot just picks at some invisible lint on her shirt, her mom starts smirking. “Is this about the cute blonde who’s been hanging around here lately?”

“Mom!” Margot whines, hoping her mom can’t see her blush in the dim lighting of the storeroom (her mom can’t see the blush, but she can just tell; moms are like that sometimes).

Her mom grins and wraps an arm around her daughter, inwardly smiling when she doesn’t pull away. “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” She pauses and then her grin turns a little bit wicked, “That you have a type, I mean.”

“ _Oh my god,_ ” Margot groans. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“She’s a very pretty girl.”

“My own personal hell.”

“A little mad, perhaps, but that just makes her all the more interesting.”

“I can’t— I just can’t with this,” Margot says, starting to head for the door. Her mom’s hand on her wrist stops her, but only barely.

“Okay, okay,” her mom says, “I’ll stop. I promise. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“It sounds kinda dumb.”

“Margot,” her mom says, and those two syllables break down every reservation Margot has.

“Okay, so, the thing is, with Tilly—”

“The cute blonde.”

“ _Mom_.”

“Sorry.”

Margot sighs. “The thing with her is, I feel like,” Margot hesitates. “It’s like,” she shrugs a little, sheepishly avoiding her mom’s eyes, acutely aware of the blush that rises in her cheeks, “It sounds kind of weird, but I feel like I _know_ her.”

“Oh,” her mom says, her voice sounding a little strained, but Margot is too worked up that she doesn’t really notice.

“I just— This is the dumb part, but did I?”

“Huh?” her mom asks mildly.

“I— When I was little maybe? We were talking about it and we grew up in neighbourhoods practically right next to each other. And I just— Maybe we did know each other? Back then,” Margot says, and she sounds just a little bit desperate; her mom’s heart breaks just a little bit at her daughter’s tone. “It would explain this— This feeling that I _know_ her, you know?”

Her mom is silent for a long moment; Margot thinks it’s in thought, but it’s really her mom debating with herself for a long time. “I think that I—” her mom pauses before starting again, “There was a girl, a little blonde girl, when you were in daycare, back when you were, oh I don’t know. Four, maybe?” Margot’s breath catches, hardly breathing as she watches her mom intently. “I don’t remember her name, really, but you two were inseparable until she moved away with her father. It does seem like a bit of a stretch, but maybe that little girl was Tilly.”

Margot feels almost like something clicks in place but not quite, like a pierce of puzzle that almost fits perfectly but is still just a little bit off. It almost explains how well Margot can read Tilly, how well she _knows_ Tilly’s every expression and lilt of her voice, but it’s not quite right; people under four years old and people over twenty-four years old are very different after all, Margot knowing Tilly when they were young almost explains it, but not quite. It also doesn’t really explain why Tilly is like a salve to her soul, but Margot finds that she cares less about the logistics of that and more about the fact that Tilly somehow makes her forget about whatever she’s been searching for.

“I mean— That makes sense,” Margot says.

“Yeah,” her mom agrees, but it sounds almost like a question. “That might be it. You two were so close, you cried for days after she left. The day she told you she was leaving you helped her hide in our attic so she wouldn’t have to leave,” her mom recalls with a small laugh (if Margot was really paying attention, she’d notice how forced her mom’s laugh sounds).

“That’s embarrassing,” Margot mutters, not really meaning it.

“It was cute,” her mom corrects. “But you shouldn’t worry so much about the logical explanation for your feelings, somethings just are.” Her mom shrugs and moves to wrap her daughter in a tight hug. “Sometimes you meet someone and you just _know_ that they’re going to be important, and it doesn’t matter how or why, it just matters that it is. Maybe Tilly’s that person for you, maybe she’s the thing that just is without any explanation.”

Margot’s silent for a long moment, digesting everything her mom’s said, rolling it around in her mind. Sometimes she forgets just how wise her mom is; amidst all the teasing Margot receives, her mom does actually offer amazing advice. She pulls back from the hug with a wry smile. “I guess you’re right,” she says. “I guess it doesn’t really matter why I feel like I _know_ her.”

Her mom sighs, tinged with relief, “Of course I am.” Margot rolls her eyes fondly while her mom just grins at her. “Now, we should get back before Re— Roni starts getting on us.”

“Well, we are currently getting paid to have a heart-to-heart,” Margot concedes.

“You know, I used to think that was the only way to have these when you were going through your petulant teenager phase.”

“Hey, I resent that implication. It wasn’t just a phase, mom,” Margot laughs, turning briefly serious as her mom heads for the door. “But thanks, for— For everything.”

“Anytime, monkey,” her mom says softly, “You know I’m always here.” They share a soft smile, until Margot can pinpoint the exact moment her mom switches from wise mother to the embodiment of teasing sarcasm. “I guess you’ve always had a thing for blondes,” she teases as she exits the storeroom.

Margot groans and leans against one of the shelves in the storeroom, intending to think for a moment but is instead being interrupted by her mom calling her name from the front.

“Yeah?” she calls back.

“Your cute blonde is here,” her mom shouts at a volume that means said cute blonde has _definitely_ heard her. 

Margot flushes instantly, burying her face in her hands. “Oh my god, _mom_ ,” she shouts back. Her mom’s laughter is her only response so she musters the rest of her dignity as she heads for the front. Tilly’s sitting on a stool, her wild curls glowing gold under the warm lightening of the bar. She brightens when she spots Margot, and Margot’s heart stutters at the smile on Tilly’s face.

“Margot!” Tilly exclaims.

Margot’s smile comes unbidden to her face as she heads for Tilly, her conversation with her mom and that feeling of everything falling into place that first night back in the Heights at the forefront of her mind.

It wasn’t love at first sight, Margot decides, not really. But it’s like, whenever Margot sees Tilly, she can feel the way the world moves. It’s like, suddenly Margot’s aware that the earth is moving through space, only tethered in place by the invisible, and even though scientists have been explaining it for centuries, the fact is that while they explain the how they still can’t explain the why. It’s like Margot is suddenly aware of how small she is, and of how big Tilly’s blue eyes makes her feel despite it all. It’s like her mom says, sometimes you just know.

 


	2. like some stranger you recognize (so pure, so electric)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, see you then, Nobin,” Alice promises.
> 
> “Nobin?” Robin asks with a laugh.
> 
> Alice grins mischievously and winks. “You said you were almost the new Robin Hood; so: Nobin.”
> 
> Robin looks a little bit like she’s windswept when she smiles at Alice, breathless with her cheeks glowing pink. “Not cool, Baker Girl.”
> 
> Or: Alice is a baker; Zelena needs a wedding cake; Robin doesn’t know whether she likes the pastries or the baker more (it’s the baker, definitely the baker).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bakery AU that was inspired by a brownie incident at my work this week lol.
> 
> Title from “A Soft Place to Land” from Waitress.

The first thing Alice notices when she walks into work that morning is the scent of something burning, which is never something you want to smell when working in a bakery. It’s always salvageable (usually, mostly, generally), but it’s never what Alice wants to be greeted with at seven in the morning. 

Naveen is at the oven, flapping a towel at the open door. Henry is standing at one of the tables, carefully pipping icing across some pastries, eyeing Naveen and the billowing cloud of smoke with apprehension. Naveen glances at the door as Alice enters with a sheepish grin. “Heya, boss,” Naveen calls, saluting with his towel. “How’s your morning been?”

“Better than yours, apparently,” Alice answers with a laugh. 

Naveen shrugs. “It’s not too bad,” he says, which is apparently the smoke detector’s cue to start screeching. “See,” he calls, waving the towel a little more vigorously.

Alice just grins and skips over to the smoke detector’s silence button, holding her finger to the button until the awful screeching sound stops. Naveen keeps waving the towel while Henry, finished with his tray of pastries, turns the two fans in the kitchen on. “Morning,” Henry finally calls to Alice.

Alice waves at him as she heads for the front. “How’s Lucy?”

Henry shrugs and shoots Alice a tired, proud grin. “She’s at my mom’s today and she’s either eating, sleeping, or screaming, so she’s doing great.”

Alice chuckles as she exits the kitchen and heads into the storefront. Henry started his shift at five and had already prepped the front cash register for the day (Alice is good at many things — baking, decorating pastries, and painting, among others — but counting money and math are not one of them). She drops off her bag behind the front counter, where she’s scheduled to greet and serve customers for her shift; she’s always been better at the customer service aspect of running a bakery rather than the actual baking part. 

The back door _dings_ , and Alice hears Henry snickering through the open door and over the radio. Alice bounces back into the kitchen, calling her claim to open the door before Naveen can move away from the oven or set his towel down. She opens the back door, grinning brightly at her partner; Tiana stands on the other side with a crate of milk and a large smile. “Morning, Alice,” she greets, handing the crate to Alice, before turning to grab the other crate from the ground behind her.

Alice met Tiana just from dumb luck of what foster family she was placed in (after her mother — in the loosest sense of the term — called social services on her papa and completely separated them). They’ve known each other since Alice was a foster kid and freshman in high school while Tiana was a very popular senior and the valedictorian, and somehow became friends. Naveen was one of the other kids in the house Alice was placed in, just a year older than her, and they bonded so quickly Alice sometimes forgets they weren’t born into the same family. After Alice turned eighteen, she was able to find her papa and they were reunited without her _monster-mother_ able to do anything about it; but Naveen and Tiana and Alice had remained close all these years. They were so close that Alice and Tiana opened a bakery-slash-food-truck business together a couple years ago, with Tiana’s best friend, Ella, working with her in the food truck and Naveen working with Alice at the bakery. Ella was how Alice met Henry, and between him, Alice, and Naveen, along with some part-time staff, they manage to run the bakery as smoothly as Tiana and Ella run the food truck. 

Through all that time, Naveen has had an (quite embarrassing, in Alice’s modest opinion) crush on Tiana without ever having worked up the courage to tell her. Though how Tiana hasn’t noticed, or how Naveen hasn’t noticed his crush isn’t entirely one-sided, is beyond Alice.

“Morning Henry, morning Naveen,” Tiana calls as she follows Alice with the rest of the milk order back to the storeroom. “Why’s it smell like burnt brownie?”

Alice snickers as Naveen tries to explain the issue with the timer this morning, as if Alice and Tiana don’t both know how awful his memory is. Alice sets the milk inside the walk-in cooler, moving to the side to allow Tiana to do the same, before helping her take the pastries and ingredients she needs back out to the food truck. Naveen and Henry wave at them as they take the last box out. Alice chats with Tiana for a couple minutes outside about what they need to order before heading back to the door of the bakery and waving at Tiana as she gets into the front of the truck. Naveen appears at her side out of almost nowhere, a slightly fearful, slightly desperate, mostly nauseous look on his face.

“Tiana wait!” Naveen calls, just a second too late. Tiana waves at them as she pulls out of the back alley. Naveen hangs his head and Alice pats him on the shoulder sympathetically.

“You should really just ask her out,” Alice suggests mildly.

Naveen doesn’t really blush, but he goes all breathless and shy. “She’s my boss,” he argues.

Alice shrugs. “So am I. And you still treat me like your little sister.”

Naveen grins and throws an arm around Alice. “That’s cause you are my little sister,” Naveen argues.

Alice swats at him, giggling. “Barely.”

Naveen shrugs, “We stuck it out with the same foster parents for years. That makes us practically closer than blood.”

“Dork,” Alice says fondly, hugging him back before quickly pushing him off and darting towards the storefront of the bakery. She putters around the front for the next half hour, taking chairs off tables, setting out pastries in the front window, writing the day’s menu on the chalkboard, and finally, at eight on the dot, flipping the sign to _open_.

The morning goes pretty slowly, only a couple regulars coming in for their morning coffee and pastry. Alice knows everyone pretty well: the building’s superintendent Weaver (though Alice always calls him Rumple because the first time she met him his shirt was all wrinkled) takes a black coffee and chats with Alice for a while like always, pretending to be far grumpier than he actually is; Henry’s mom stops by for a dark coffee before heading to her bar; the florist gets her tea with a little milk and lots of sugar; the bookstore owner picks up his usual coffee and pastries for him and his husband.

Alice is just handing the bank manager her coffee when the door dings and the prettiest girl Alice has ever seen walks in. Her honey-coloured hair is braided over her shoulder, glasses fogging up slightly in the bakery heat, a dimpled smile on her face as she laughs at the person behind her. She holds the door open for the second person, a slightly older women with bright, wild curls and a smirk playing across her features. Both women share the same chin and posture, their shoulders held in the same way as they head for Alice. 

Alice tries uselessly to blink out of her stupor as the bank manager leaves and the pretty girl approaches, unsuccessfully searching for her ability to form any coherent thought at all. The pretty girl has eyes that are somehow blue, green, and grey, sparkling behind her thin-rimmed glasses; her cheeks are a little bit pinked when Alice meets her gaze and Alice has never felt her heartbeat so acutely before.

“We’re here for my appointment.”

Alice blinks and tries not to swallow her tongue when she feels the pretty girl’s eyes on her. “I’m sorry?”

“For Zelena Mills,” the red-haired woman says and Alice snaps her attention to her, finding the woman — Zelena, apparently — giving her an amused, knowing look, “my nephew said to come in at nine.”

“Uh,” Alice says, “Let me just go talk to him for a second.” She offers the two women a smile before fleeing into the back of the bakery.

“What’s up?” Naveen asks, watching Alice enter the kitchen with an alarmed look.

“Henry Daniel Mills,” she hisses as she marches towards him. Henry glances up in curiosity, which quickly morphs into terrified surprise at the look on Alice’s face. “What the _bloody_ hell?”

“Huh?” he says, eyes so wide Alice can see a rim of white around his hazel irises. 

“My nine a.m. appointment just showed up,” she explains.

“Ohh-kay?” 

“The nine a.m. appointment that I have no clue about.”

Henry’s eyes clear and he holds up his hands, plastic gloves covered in chocolate and icing sugar. “Oh god, I’m sorry. With the whole brownie thing this morning I completely forget to tell you. My aunt’s getting married so I recommended _Curiouser & Curiouser_ to her for a wedding cake.”

“Great,” Alice says, “I appreciate the endorsement, but I have nothing prepared.”

Henry peels his gloves off and tosses them in the garbage. “Let me come and explain. Aunt Zelena can get mad at me, but she’ll be cool with waiting while you get some samples.”

Alice sighs and rolls her eyes. “Sure, but you’re on probation, Mills,” she warns.

Henry chuckles, knowing her threat is harmless, and heads for the front of the bakery, Alice following close behind. Zelena is taking to the younger woman, obviously her daughter and Henry’s cousin; the pretty girl looks both bored and exasperated, but when her eyes land on Alice she seems to brighten and blush before scowling at her mother. For her part, Alice half trips into Henry’s back, her heart somewhere in her throat, pounding fiercely in her ears. Henry catches and steadies her as they approach the counter

“Hey Aunt Zelena, sorry about that. I guess I forgot to tell my boss about the appointment,” he explains. Zelena’s eyes narrow at her nephew and he holds his hands up in surrender. “Screaming infant all night,” he says by way of explanation.

“Hmm,” Zelena says. “You’re lucky she’s cute.”

“ _Any_ ways,” Henry continues. “Alice, this is my aunt Zelena and my cousin Robin; Aunt Zelena, Robin, this is my super scary boss Alice,” he introduces.

Alice swats at Henry’s shoulder. “Probation,” she warns again.

The pretty girl — _Robin_ — snorts and shoots Alice a crooked grin, and Alice’s eyes are drawn to her pink lips and the mischief they promise.

“Right!” Alice says, too suddenly and too loud, her face flaming, “Wedding cake. What are your thoughts?”

“Huh?” Zelena says.

Alice shrugs. “Since _some_ one didn’t give me any time to prepare samples, I don’t have anything to go off of, but if you have some ideas I might be able to find something similar around here and then we can schedule another appointment — one that I actually know about,” she adds to Henry, who fondly rolls his eyes. “So any ideas about whether you want a traditional cake or something a little more modern. Cupcakes are pretty common these days, or some sort of dessert bar. Of course our specialty is beignets so that’s an option too. And then you have the the icing and cake type and flavour, the colour, the cake decorations, et cetera, to decide on.”

“Green,” Robin says, speaking for the first time. Her voice is soothing and as mischievous as her grin; Alice is pretty sure she swoons.

Zelena frowns and swats at her daughter. “Don’t be a brat,” she scolds. Robin just shares a smug grin with Henry and Alice feels a little out of place. She shifts her weight and plays with the ends of her undone button-up.

“I’m serious mom, green totally suits you,” Robin argues.

“Yeah, Aunt Zelena, it really does,” Henry adds; Alice has spent enough time with him to recognize that he’s fighting a smirk.

“Oh bugger off, both of you,” Zelena snipes. She turns back to Alice with a sweet smile. “Don’t mind them, they’re brats.” Robin and Henry make simultaneous noises of protest that Zelena ignores. “Now, run through the types of cake for me.”

“So there’s the traditional cake flavours,” Alice starts, acutely aware of Robin’s rapt eyes on her, “which you can pair with almost any type or flavour of icing.”

 

* * *

 

Despite the fact that Alice only found out about the appointment minutes before it started, it goes well (which could be mostly due to the fact that Alice is _pretty_ sure Robin is flirting with her throughout it — especially when Zelena stepped out for a ten minute phone call and Robin and Alice got to just chat about whatever). Zelena has settled on a couple different ideas, ones that she’ll have to return to _Curiouser & Curiouser_ to sample, since all Alice could give her were similar pastries instead of actual wedding cake samples.

Henry comes out of the back, where he kept baking while Naveen manned the cash register, to say goodbye to his aunt and cousin.

“So, next week, same time?” Zelena confirms as they reach the front counter. Alice nods and hands a business card with the appointment confirmation to Zelena, feeling rather _adult_ despite the fact that she had a Fruit Roll-up for breakfast while sprinting to work so she wouldn’t be late because she got distracted watching morning cartoons.

“Will you be there too?” Alice asks Robin, not quite managing to keep the hope out of her voice. “For— For the samples, I mean. So I know how many samples to make.”

“Of course,” Robin replies instantly. “I’m always up to talk with pretty girls— I mean, you have really a pretty bakery,” she stutters. “A cute bakery. You have one. It’s very pretty, and, uh, blue.”

“Nice one, cuz,” Henry says with a smug smirk.

“Nice hairnet,” Robin deadpans despite the fact that the tips of her ears are bright red.

Alice giggles and Robin turns her blue-green-grey eyes on her in delighted awe; Alice is pretty sure her heart jumps right out of her chest.

Neither of them notice the knowing look Zelena and Henry exchange over their heads. “Henry, you said you had something to show me on your phone,” Zelana says suddenly.

“Wha— Oh! Right!” Henry exclaims. “Yeah come on, my phone’s by the cash register.”

“We’ll be right back, monkey,” Zelena says.

“Okay, mom,” Robin acknowledges distractedly.

Alice smiles and ducks her head a little. “So you’re teaching archery?” Alice asks, continuing their conversation from earlier. “That’s pretty cool.”

Robin shrugs bashfully. “My dad was really into it and I guess I inherited his name and his knack for it.”

“Like a real life Robin Hood,” Alice teases gently.

“Don’t joke about that,” Robin deadpans, “I wish I was joking but his last name was Hood.”

“No,” Alice says in delighted shock.

Robin laughs a little. “Thank god I got my mom’s surname. I don’t think elementary school me would have lasted too long if I was literally Robin Hood.” Alice giggles and Robin gets that proud, awed look she seems to wear whenever she makes Alice laugh. “Anyways, I figured I’d keep up his legacy while trying to pay my ridiculously high rent.”

“Right?” Alice agrees with a laugh, “This city is ridiculous.”

“It’s insane!” Robin exclaims, and Alice gets more than a little distracted by how much her eyes sparkle when she’s passionate and how her lips curl so enticingly around her words. “I’d love to be able to eat and sleep inside at the same time but nope. Not possible apparently.”

Alice leans forward a little and winks. Robin looks a little bit like a strong gust of wind might blow her over, which Alice counts as a success. “Why do you think I opened a bakery? Free samples and a warm place to stay.”

Robin laughs breathlessly. “It’s really cool that you own a bakery so young.”

Alice smiles shyly. “Tiana does most of the baking and all the numbers and ordering and stuff. I’m just the saleswoman.”

Robin takes a small step forward, her hand grabbing Alice’s own as if of its own volition. “I’m sure you’re more than just a saleswoman.”

Alice swallows thickly, at the words and Robin’s hand on hers and how intense Robin’s eyes are; they seem more green this close, bright and clear and warm. “Thank you,” she mumbles. 

Robin shrugs a little, as if it doesn’t mean everything to Alice. She clears her throat and removes her hand from Alice’s, shoving it deeply into her pocket and rocking back on her heels. “So, I’ve heard your guys’ beignets are to die for.”

Alice giggles and tugs awkwardly on the bottom of her button-up shirt again. “I wouldn’t say they’re _that_ good. I prefer if people live after eating our pastries, both for the repeat customers and the lack of lawsuits.”

Robin giggles, her eyes somehow turning even brighter and warmer with her smile; Alice has always had a thing for dimples, but there’s something about Robin’s smile that makes her feel like the butterflies in her stomach are going to burst out of her chest. “I know my mom wants a traditional cake and all, but I can’t believe she’d turn down beignets for the second happiest day of her life.”

“Well lucky for you,” Alice teases, “you know the owner. Let me get you some to go. They’re the pride of the shop and since the _Rollin’ Bayou_ is on the other side of the city today you deserve some.” She slips behind the counter and walks to the farthest display case, grabbing a paper bag and the tongs and starting to pile them in. “I was planning on bringing some home for my papa but, between you and me, he gets enough free sweets from us as it is.”

Robin laughs at that and Alice’s heart blossoms in her chest until it fills up all the spaces between her ribs. Alice smiles in response and hands the bag over the short counter; Alice knows it’s cliché, but when Robin’s fingers brush hers she gets all tingly everywhere. “Um,” Alice coughs, pleased to realize that the blush spreading across her own cheeks is matched by the one blooming on the tips of Robin’s ears. “Try one,” she urges.

Robin’s eyes linger on Alice’s for a long moment before she reaches into the bag and pulls out a slightly lopsided beignet.

“I’ve never been good at making these,” Alice explains with a sheepish grin. “They never end up in the proper heart-shape, somehow I always make them all blobby.”

“I don’t know about that,” Robin argues. She holds up the beignet in her hand with a small smile, tilting it so it’s held vertically lengthwise. “It’s a real heart,” she explains, her blue-green-grey eyes caught on Alice’s.

Alice’s breath catches in her chest and she can do little more than smile softly at Robin. “A happy accident, then.”

“Yeah,” Robin says, her eyes darting around Alice’s face like she’s looking for something. Alice has never felt so exposed in her life, but she’s also never felt so brave either. “I think that it was,” Robin adds after a long moment, her eyes settling on Alice’s, crinkled in a smile like she’s found was she was just searching for.

“Robin,” Zelena calls from the door, “Come on, we have an appointment with the florist in ten minutes.”

Robin sighs but then gives Alice a soft smile. “See you next week, Alice,” she says.

“Yeah, see you then, Nobin,” Alice promises.

“Nobin?” Robin asks with a laugh.

Alice grins mischievously and winks. “You said you were almost the new Robin Hood; so: Nobin.” 

Robin looks a little bit like she’s windswept when she smiles at Alice, breathless with her cheeks glowing pink. “Not cool, Baker Girl.”

“Cool?” Alice teases, setting her palms on the edge of the counter and leaning towards Robin, “Why would you want to be cool?”

Robin shakes her head with a grin that’s only slightly sheepish when her mom calls her name again. “See you,” she says softly as she turns to go.

“Bye,” Alice says, just as softly.

Naveen slinks up beside Alice out of nowhere as Robin heads for her mom, a sly grin stretched across his face. “I’ll ask Tiana out if you ask Robin out,” he offers.

Alice glances at Robin’s retreating back, catching green-grey-blue eyes as Robin shoots her a grin and a little wave over her shoulder. Alice’s heart takes a dive out of her chest and she gives Robin a little wave back with a blush rising to her face. “Deal,” she says firmly, turning away from Robin to shake Naveen’s hand in promise.

 


End file.
